


like a fire in a snowstorm

by Rainjer



Category: Ranger's Apprentice - John Flanagan
Genre: Blood and Injury, Camping, Coffee, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, International Fanworks Day 2021, My First Work in This Fandom, One Shot, Platonic Relationships, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:27:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29466477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainjer/pseuds/Rainjer
Summary: ‘’Also, I wouldn’t call it saving.’’‘’So, you're saying that finding your dying friend and feeding him is just a hobby?’’ Halt raised an eyebrow.When Halt is in need of help, his partner is there for him.
Relationships: Crowley Meratyn & Halt O'Carrick
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	like a fire in a snowstorm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [littlekaracan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlekaracan/gifts).



> Many thanks to my beta, UndercoverSloth!

The cloaked stranger could hear his heartbeats, along with the crunching ice below his faltering steps.

In the storm of snow, the freezing wind; everything seemed incredibly at ease. It wasn’t like he hated the soft whiteness, no, but one would admit that it was a nuisance. The boots would be covered with ice that would eventually melt, the hilt of the dagger would be colder than the snow itself and the wind wouldn’t let you shoot your arrows to where you aim at. They would go higher, to the left, or to the right; and you wouldn’t even know that since you couldn’t even see your own nose.

The short stranger took off his hood and revealed his face: A messy beard with snowflakes on it. A pink nose because of the cold. Red, wet eyes. It surely wasn’t because he cried or anything, no. If you looked closely, you would notice that his clothes were the uniform of Rangers. And Rangers didn’t cry. Some said that they had no emotions, because they were no ordinary human, _no human,_ even. They wouldn’t smile either, except for those terrifying wolf-like smiles that paralyzed their opponents.

He was one of those Rangers, that mysterious group that no one knew anything about, so people made up their own versions of them. Rangers were big, scary, cold hearted beats along with dark magicians. It was best to not mess with them. 

The long black hair fluttered through the wind, as if it was an animal’s tail that just got out of a messy fight. He couldn’t have denied it either with the various bleeding wounds on him. He was covered with dozens, but one of them bled like it wanted to dry him out. He wanted to fall on the soft, cotton-like ground, close his eyes for the first time in many days, and take a good rest. It was tiring to blink with the frozen eyelashes anyway.

Before he could realize, his steps had already gotten slower. He was walking for, God knows, how many hours. He took care of those bandits, he knew it, but he still fled without taking care of his wounds because they might’ve followed him. And now he was walking, with the hope of finding a company— _the company_ —a non promised one but he hoped dearly from the bottom of his heart. He always found it. To be precise, his company always found him.

Deep in thoughts, he attempted to take another step, but since he wasn’t paying attention, he tripped on a rock. A huge one, too. 

_A blind bat on a foggy day would see that,_ he thought, while trying to find his balance. It was no use though. Eventually, he let himself fall. He had no energy, or motivation _(or maybe even enough blood)_ left to keep up.

‘’Oi!’’ Someone caught him from the shoulders and stood him up. ‘’You only die once, my friend, don’t waste it like that!’’

Bearded man took a glance at his saviour, even though he already knew who he was from the way he talked. 

‘’Crowley,’’ he said, his voice sounding like a whisper, ‘’Ye came.’’

‘’I did, of course Halt, yesterday,’’ answered the ginger man with the everlasting smirk of his. ‘’I thought you would go towards the forest, so I already prepared our camp.’’

‘’You could’ve gone home after your part was done,’’ said Halt, out of breath, but he was thankful that he came anyway. His friend was like a fire in a snowstorm, _quite literally at the moment,_ warming his heart with the feeling of safety and shelter. A familiar face could do wonders. Not that he would say it out loud, though. He would rather get eaten by a Kalkara.

Crowley offered a hand. Halt took it, he didn’t even try to act tough. He _was_ out of breath and _dying,_ also, his best friend has already seen his worst, so it was pointless to refuse help. His arm around Crowley’s shoulder, they walked slowly but steadily.

‘’I did.’’ Crowley jerked his head to get rid of the snow on his hair. ‘’Even went shopping. The seller guy was surprised to hear that we are already out of coffee.’’

They were sent on a quest and the quest had two parts: Crowley tricking the gang with the role of a nobleman was the first part, and it was done days ago. The second part was Halt fighting them off, and it failed, well, successfully. Sure, he fought, performed his part and won but there was a slight problem like him bleeding from the stomach. He decided to not to say anything about it, he would take care of it himself once he got clean water. _It would be easier to move if I had my horse,_ Halt thought, but he had left it in the tavern because of the snowstorm.

Crowley looked at his friend with curious eyes, but he didn’t get an answer. It was time to voice his thoughts, then.

‘’Is there a reason,’’ he asked with a joyful tone, ‘’for you to hide your stomach like there is a dark secret?’’

‘’You wouldn’t like to know,’’ said Halt, without giving anything away. Under his cloak, he hugged his saddlebag even tighter, not revealing any wounds.

‘’You are wounded, aren’t you?’’ Crowley raised his eyebrows. He learnt this expression from Halt, and he didn’t miss the chance to use it against him.

‘’...’’

‘’Well?’’

‘’Yes.’’

‘’How bad?’’

‘’Big.’’

‘’Huh, bummer,’’ said Crowley, still smirking. ‘’Out of supplies?’’

Halt considered a salty comment like _‘Except water, bandage and literally everything else? Of course not._ ’ but changed his mind half way. ‘’Got them stolen,’’ he said, with a weary sigh.

‘’That sucks.’’ Crowley looked around to see if any intruders were there, but thankfully, even criminals decided to take a day off on a stormy day like this. _That’s_ what being a Ranger was like. As Pritchard, his beloved former mentor, once casually said while sipping coffee: “ _We die, and kill for our friends, for our people, and they don’t even know that. Our lives are full of death. Accept it.”_ Despite how horrible it sounded, it was easy to live like this once you internalized it. Also, dying for your friends meant dying _with_ your friends in his case, so Crowley couldn’t see any problem with it.

Halt yawned, he couldn’t resist closing his eyes anymore. Despite his fast heartbeat (it was just a side effect of bleeding to death in a snowstorm), he felt sleepy.

Crowley shook his friend. Halt couldn’t keep his head up, and let it fall on his shoulder. ‘’You are _not_ dying in my arms,’’ Crowley said with a loud voice to wake him up. He looked at his friend’s pitch black eyes. They were barely open. ‘’Seriously, what am I going to say to your da—... to King Duncan? This is a lame death, he will choke you if he hears about it.’’

Halt exhaled, it almost came out as a chuckle (because Crowley was correct), and his friend smiled with relief.

‘’Here we are,’’ said Crowley, when they arrived in a relatively dry area. The trees were higher and closer to each other, so the ground was suitable for a camp. _Crowley had already settled here and lit a fire,_ thought Halt. His friend was considerate as always.

‘’Your hot water is ready,’’ said Crowley, after Halt sat in the warm tent.

‘’Already?’’

‘’I knew you would bleed,’’ said Crowley jokingly. A voice in Halt’s head said his friend was totally serious.

Crowley prepared coffee very quickly, one that had such a strong flavor that woke Halt up. He didn’t let Halt add honey, saying ‘’Bitter coffee will be more effective.’’ Once Halt could keep his head up, Crowley went out to prepare something to eat and left Halt alone. They were very good friends, but Crowley knew how keen his friend was on being alone.

Halt cleaned his wound, applied some medicinal herbs, then bandaged it. It had already stopped bleeding, so he was kind of late for this, but he didn’t mind. As long as it didn’t affect his archery, any kind of wounds were welcomed.

‘’Hey, are you done?’’ Crowley entered the tent with two plates in his hands. Halt smelled the appetizing smell of meat. It was a classic to eat this on quests.

‘’Stew.’’ Halt took a bite. ‘’Thanks.’’

Crowley tilted his head and almost bent over, similar to saying ‘ _You’re welcome, your majesty.’_ and ate another spoon of stew despite his full mouth. They were both very tired and hungry, so none of them tried to start a conversation during eating. Once they’ve finished another plate of stew, they finally felt like talking.

‘’So,’’ asked Crowley, with an energetic tone, ‘’How did it go?’’

Halt raised his head from the coffee (with honey, this time) in his hands. ‘’I don’t know.’’ He took a glance at his saddlebag, which contained parchments and ink to write a report of the quest. He wasn’t even sure about what he was going to write. _Sorry, I got my ass kicked,_ perhaps?

He shrugged. ‘’I guess I did what I was told.’’

Crowley smiled. ‘’That’s a relief,’’ he said, ‘’I really didn’t want to go back there. Man, it’s freezing out there.’’

‘’Sorry,’’ said Halt and took a sip from his beverage. ‘’Didn’t want to bother you.’’

‘’You didn’t.’’ The man with the fancy ponytail changed the position of his sitting. ‘’You completed the quest. Quite quicker than I would, shall I say, those were some skilled bandits.’’

‘’Yes. I guess one of them died.’’

‘’My condolences.’’

Halt took another sip, and looked outside from the small gap of the tent's entrance. The storm had gotten stronger and the sun had gone down. It seemed like they were stuck here for a few days. At least it was snowing, so they could melt it to have drinking water. He wasn’t feeling like tracking a stream of water from the footprints of a rabbit at the moment.

‘’Well, speak up.’’ Crowley put his cup to the ground and looked at him directly in the eye. ‘’What’s bothering you?’’

Halt wanted to deny it (or wanted to say _‘Your presence.’_ ) but he didn’t want to say something he didn’t actually mean. Even though Crowley was used to his cruel sense of humour and would probably laugh it off, he couldn’t find the motivation to joke around. Instead, he sighed. ‘’It’s just,’’ he said, ‘’I’m wondering how I’ll pay you back.’’

‘’Pay me back?’’ Crowley scowled with a thoughtful expression. ‘’With money, I presume?’’

‘’Not like that.’’ Halt looked in his eyes, dead serious. ‘’You always save me when I’m in trouble.’’

‘’Not always though,’’ he said, with a shrug. He didn’t say it to sound modest, he genuinely _meant_ it. Halt saved him a lot as well, it was a mutual thing. ‘’Also, I wouldn’t call it saving.’’

‘’So, you're saying that finding your dying friend and feeding him is just a hobby?’’ Halt raised an eyebrow.

‘’Not a hobby. A duty.’’ Crowley took his cup back and warmed his hands a little. He was cold despite wearing the thick cloak and the tent was shaking with the strong north wind. ‘’And not a duty of partnership for work, a duty of friendship.’’ he added, just to make it clear.

‘’Hmm.’’

Crowley sighed, and put on a smile as if he was a dad who knew his troubled child very well. Halt didn’t like talking, at least not much, but he had different kinds of silences. Over the course of the years, with going on adventures nonstop, fighting evil and misunderstood innocence, Crowley got to know his friend way too well. ‘’I know you don’t believe me.’’

‘’I’ve never said so.’’

‘’Yeah, like we need to talk to communicate.’’ Crowley rolled his eyes. ‘’C’mon, my friend, you are better than this.’’

‘’Just admit that you saved me a lot of times,’’ said Halt. He sounded desperate. It wasn’t like Halt at all. ‘’At least do that for me.’’

Crowley chuckled and tried to brush the idea of _‘Did he get poisoned as well when he was wounded?’_ Instead, he said, ‘’Hey, didn’t you just say _you_ wanted to do something to pay _me_ back?’’

Halt looked him in the eye. He wasn’t in the mood of being joked at, especially after getting stabbed from the stomach. Those two things just didn’t go well together.

_‘Oh boy, aren’t you so fun?’_ Crowley intended to go on, but with the fear of getting punched on the face, he decided to gulp down the rest of his coffee instead. It wasn't like Halt had done such a thing before, but that stare didn’t look too friendly and Crowley wasn’t taking any risks.

‘’Hey,’’ said Halt, breaking the silence. ‘’At least let me give you a gift.’’

‘’Look,’’ said Crowley, with a tired tone this time. ‘’You started to make me want to _not_ save you. If I leave you bleeding to death next time, don’t blame me. Dear God, why don’t you just call it a day?’’

‘’I don’t want to owe you anything.’’ 

‘’Okay, then. Let’s count.’’

Hibernian’s eyebrows rose up a little. ‘’Count what?’’

‘’How many times you have saved me.’’ Crowley started to count with his fingers before his comrade could say a word. ‘’From that bandit on the road. From the assassin of Lord Ulric. From getting drowned in that lake… I hate to admit it, but yes, I _was_ drowning there.’’

‘’I knew it.’’

‘’Oh, don’t be so cocky,’’ said Crowley, and continued, ‘’From the gang that set that village on fire. Should I go on?’’

He actually went on, and in the end, it turned out that Halt had saved him a total of eleven times. Then he also counted how many times _he_ had saved Halt. ‘’Eleven,’’ said Crowley, with a witty smile. ‘’We are even!’’

‘’You are wrong. We would be even,’’ answered Halt dryly, ‘’if you didn’t save me today, which makes it twelve times.’’

‘’Oh.’’ Crowley blinked a couple of times, not knowing what to say. ‘’Well, maybe I didn’t think this through.’’

Halt didn’t say anything, instead, he reached at his saddlebag. As he took out the small pot, Crowley started protesting immediately.

‘’No way,’’ he said, shaking his head, ‘’I’m not taking your honey.’’

‘’It’s a gift.’’

‘’I’m not taking away your addiction. You need this. Once I was keeping watch on a quest and heard you talking in your sleep. You clearly—very clearly said ‘ _Not my honey!’_ ’’

Halt rolled his eyes. ‘’Just take the darn honey.’’

Crowley looked at his friend, to see if he was joking or not. No, he was dead serious like always. With a tired sigh, he took the pot from the ground. He was expecting it to be half-empty, but he was surprised by its weight.

Crowley took out its lid and looked inside. ‘’It’s full,’’ he said with a scowl. Halt’s honey pot, the honey he put in his coffee all the time? ‘’What— _how_?’’

And at that moment, Crowley saw it: Halt’s lips curling up a little, not very noticeably but still visible to a familiar eye. ‘’Happy birthday,’’ said the bearded man, with a quiet tone and a sly gleam in his eyes. He had the expression of a hunter who had just hunted down its target.

Before Crowley could say anything, Halt left the tent. The ginger man looked behind at him, trying to process the sudden gesture. It wasn’t the first time Crowley got a birthday present, but surely, it was the most sincere one.

‘’Oh, you grumpy archer,’’ said Crowley, laughing with shock and holding the pot. Rangers were very mysterious indeed, after spending years with them, you still wouldn’t know what they truly thought, even though you were one of them as well.

He dashed out of the tent, stumbling in the snow and following his dear friend. ‘’I’ll sing a song,’’ he yelled joyfully, ‘’as a thank you for my gift!’’

‘’ _Don’t you dare-’’_

‘’ _Ooh, sweet Carolina-’’_

‘’Stop, hyenas will come over thinking you called out for them!’’

Crowley did stop singing, muttering ‘’Good point,’’ and went on with a laughter that got louder and louder. Eventually his laughter affected Halt, resulting with an unnoticeable smile. 

_Crowley is right,_ Halt thought. They were friends, _best friends,_ and they were going to save each other, until the day they died together.

Because that’s what the friends did.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> It's my first fic ever. Thank you for reading! Halt is my favourite character, and I love Halt and Crowley's friendship!


End file.
